She hated her mother in that moment, but she hated her father even more. He had chosen her, and it made her feel dirty and shameful. She knocked a water glass to the floor and ran out and down to the beach. They didn’t follow her, which she expected. She knew they thought she behaved badly for the attention, but this wasn’t it at all. What she wanted was no attention, to be invisible, and yet at the same time, she wanted her mother to take her by the scruff of her neck and scold her fiercely. She wanted to feel her shame magnified, blown up so big that all there was room for was a ribbon of pleasure. Her mother could then dismiss her, go back and snuggle her father, and Josie could lace this ribbon through her head, think of being spanked, and the ribbon would lengthen until it filled first her brain and then her body. But instead they sent her mousy friend Rachel down to play with her. She had never liked Rachel—she refused to take her shoes off because she was afraid of jellyfish, and she had once tattled on Josie for throwing rocks at the empty lifeguard station. Rachel was pale with thin blonde hair, and she was clingy and wouldn’t play any of the games Josie wanted to play.

“Go away,” Josie said.

“No,” Rachel said.

“I don’t want to play with you.”

“Why?” Rachel whined.

“Because you don’t know how to play.”

“I do too.”

“Fine,” Josie said, “then you have to play what I want, and do what I say.”

Rachel agreed, and Josie spent the next half hour ordering her around. She made her move rocks and then move them back; she made her stand on her head and, when she fell, do it again, and Rachel whined, but obeyed. Josie didn’t know why she did it, and when her parents called the two of them back, Josie felt sick and, on the way home, threw up in the car. It was the bossing around, all that power and aggression with no space for imaginary punishments.

Punishment. That was all it was then, something to counter the dark dirty bruise inside her. The thought made her wince, and she pushed her thumbs deep into her temples.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

THE NEXT MORNING, JOSIE WOKE UP TO THE PERSISTENT RING OF her cell phone. She had set it on the nightstand, and now she picked it up.

“Bunny,” Devesh said.

She was shaken and didn’t answer.

“You there?” he said.

“Yes,” Josie said and sat up in bed.

“How are you?”

“What time is it?”

“It’s eight your time.”

“A.M. or P.M.?”

“A.M.”

She closed her eyes and wondered what would happen if she just flipped the phone shut. “I was sleeping.”

“Oh.”